Page 48 of He Has Game (Boston Brawlers Hockey)
Edwin is the only one in a position to speak up to his wife. He’s the only one still eating like she’d just commented on the weather. But he sets down his fork and looks around the table, taking notice of the silence, the uneasy vibes.
“Let’s not talk business, Sher-honey,” he says, using the endearment like it’s part of her name, automatic. “We brought Finn and his people here to get to know him, to take measure of the man.” He smiles at me, looking more like a shark than a nice old man. I feel the cold vibes from him even from where he sits at the head of the table. Realization that he sees me as a threat, that Sherry’s brand of poison has infected him, or possibly she knows her husband, all about his ego and pride and knows how to manipulate him.
Joe Moroni speaks up. “The food is delicious.” Not,the team is playing well now and we can’t jeopardize the momentum in our run for the cup with a trade now. Ham says Boylston can influence promotional deals, but it’s losing my chance at the cup that squeezes my chest. The two men eye each other and Edwin nods. Normal, if stilted, conversation resumes as Sherry talks about her chef.
After the main course, Sherry announces that there’s a dessert buffet and after dinner liqueurs in the great room. I’m thinking it’s time to leave, but Ham knows me and corrals me.
“You need to stick around to the bitter end,” he says. Joe is watching me, probably wondering if I’m worth all the shit. What I’m wondering is why Edwin has so much influence. Maybe he’s threatened a lawsuit. I need to ask Mary, but Vivvie is sticking by my side like we’ve been stitched together, per our plan and good sense. But Mary is just as good a chaperone as she is, so I detach myself.
“I need to talk to Mary,” I say.
“Then I’ll run to the ladies’ room.”
Mary is talking with Joe at the window, presumably admiring the view. Walking by the dessert table, I pause to consider taking one. It’s a natural move. My mother is at the end of the table talking with the Frosts, hopefully not scaring them with more stories of my childhood.
I don’t see Sherry come up behind me, but I smell the poisonous cloud of her perfume.
“There’s still a chance for you to make amends,” she says in a reasonable tone. I turn and face her. She’s standing too close, but I’m up against the table so I can’t move back.
“Make amends for what?” I say, wary, as I should be.
“For your insult of course. You said I was too old. That’s a big no-no. I’m surprised your mother didn’t teach you that.” She flicks a nod in Caroline’s direction. Caroline’s eyes are on us, even as she continues to talk to the Frosts. I remain silent.
“All you need to do is give me a chance to prove that I’m not old at all,” Sherry says. Then she slips her hand to my crotch and squeezes. Hard. And not in a good way.
My eyes immediately start to water. She releases me, but the damage is done and I have to grit my teeth and concentrate to stay upright, to keep my knees from buckling. For one, I don’t want to give her the satisfaction. Also, the last thing I want to do is call attention to myself.
I wish to fuck I had another glass of bourbon right now.
Sherry smiles. “What’ll it be? Meet me upstairs? I’ll tell them the clams didn’t agree with you. In fact, you do look a little pale.”
In spite of the pain and mild lightheadedness, I grit out a laugh. Because she’s laughable. I would tell her how pathetic she is, but she gets the message. Anger floods her face and she backs up a step. She’s about to slap me and the implications run through my mind. I’m about to hold up my hand to stop her, when my mother appears at my side. Then Vivvie appears at my other side, taking my arm and staring Sherry in the face, staring her down. Sherry waves her hand as if she’d been making an innocent gesture
“We should go now,” Vivvie says. “I don’t feel well. I think it was the clams.”
Sherry stares at her wide-eyed, then she recovers and says, “Why should Finn care, Vivvie? He’s not really your fiancé, is he? And as soon as I expose you, he’s off the team. I don’t care if it is mid-playoffs, he’ll be traded—or benched and he’ll lose all his endorsements because he’ll be exposed as a liar and a fraud as well as a degenerate womanizer.” She turns and rushes away, joining her husband, Joe and Mary.
Mary looks over at me and I mouth that we’re leaving. Grace and the Frosts join us. Ham stays with Mary and Joe. Vivvie leads us to the foyer. We don’t expect to be seen out by our hosts and we’re not disappointed when thier butler or whatever the hell he is shows up at the door with our coats.
As soon as we get outside I ask my mother to drive Grace and the Frosts back to the Garden’s garage to get their cars. Grace looks at me and she’s about to say something until Vivvie elbows her. Then I realize I could have asked Grace to drive them back. I hadn’t needed to rely on my mother.
“Sure thing. I’d be more than happy to,” Caroline says. “That’ll still leave me plenty of time to get to the airport to pick up Neil.”
“Neil?” I ask.
“Neil Cameron. My fiancé.”
* * *
Vivvie’ssteady quiet calms me as we sit in the back seat of the Uber on the short drive back to my condo. I made sure the housekeeper came in and spiffed the place up today after Aiden and I left for the rink. Who knows if she’ll notice?
Who the fuck knows why I’m obsessing about meaningless details?
The answer to that is obvious, even to me. Because I need to keep my mind busy so I don’t fucking second guess my intention to fuck the hell out of Vivvie tonight until she can’t remember her own name, until the only name in her head is mine. Until she tells me . . .what?
Swiping my hand through my hair, I give her leg a squeeze because she’s looking at me like she’s having second thoughts. But that’s me. She’s been sure all along that she wants me to—that she wants tosleepwith me. A damn ridiculous euphemism if I ever heard one.
“You’re still wound up. I don’t blame you,” she says. “I’ll help you relax when we get h—to your condo.”
